


Trust Me, Love Me

by TwiAddictAnne



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiAddictAnne/pseuds/TwiAddictAnne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes what you are looking for happens to be right in front of you. A little face-to-face confrontation with reality is said to be good for bringing everything in perspective. Can a near-death experience bring similar results for CSIs Bella and Edward? Rated M, AH, OOC, Cannon pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Me, Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: No copyrights infringement intended. I don't own Twilight saga or CSI.

** Trust Me, Love Me **

 

“ _Hey Bells, I kind of got sick, so cannot make it to the lab today. Will you let Carlisle know? Thanks._ ” As I hear the stupid voice mail, I feel my anger grow exponentially. _Fucking Jacob Black._ If the guy was not one of the few who wanted to work in the graveyard shift, I think our supervisor, Carlisle, would have already had him transferred.

 

I do not even think of calling him back. I hate his lying ass. I swear I could hear girly giggles in the background when he faked the coughing fit, after saying that he got sick. Personally, I think the only reason Jacob wants to be on the graveyard shift is that he runs a chance of picking up girls while on the job.

 

Still raging from his voice mail, I knock on Carlisle’s door.

 

“Come in.” His calm voice calls out.

 

“Carlisle, CSI Black just called in sick. We are short-staffed tonight,” I say, without sparing a glance around Carlisle’s office.

 

Instead of getting angry, like I was hoping he would, Carlisle leans back on his chair with a smile on his face. “That solves the issue then. We have a backup tonight, Isabella.”

 

I frown at his relaxed manner. Never have I seen Carlisle act so laid-back when there was not enough CSIs in the lab. I mean the man has not been nicknamed “Hitler-Carl” for his leniency.

 

I open my mouth to question him when a soft chuckle comes to my ear.

_“Oh fuck! Please do not let it be him. Please do not let it be_ him _._ ” I pray to God, but maybe He is pissed at me for missing last two Sundays at church, because when I slowly turn my head to the side, I see none other than Edward Cullen sitting at one of the chairs. _Damn it!_

 

Let me introduce you to Edward Cullen. He is Carlisle Cullen’s nephew and a damn good CSI. I am not placing undue praises, trust me. I hate Cullen’s guts, but he is one of the best CSIs in the day shift unit.

 

So why do I hate him, you ask? Simple. Because, he is too fucking good-looking, like illegally-sexy-good-looking and he has a ridiculously sexy smile. But I hate him for a far more fundamental reason… because I am pretty sure he hates me too.

 

Fuelling my hatred is the fact that though Cullen acts like he is THE God’s gift to earth, he does not date, or sleep around like Jacob. The few cases I have worked with him, he has always done his job and never batted an eyelash when we had to work with female witnesses, not even in the case with a bunch of sorority girls.

 

If you are thinking he is gay, think again. He is _not_ gay. Because, I had seen him with his girlfriend, a tall-leggy blonde, on my very first day here. After that, Rosalie, the toxicology specialist and my best friend, told me that he had broken up with the girl and since then no one has seen him with a date. But that did not mean he is into dudes. Because at every chance he gets, he flirts—shamelessly—with any and every female officers in the lab, except for me and Rosalie. Rosalie, because she is married to his friend, Under-Sheriff, Emmett McCarty and me, because… well, he hates me.

 

I have absolutely no idea why he started hating me but when I realized that he did, I figured feelings should be mutual, so I hated him right back.

 

“CSI Swan as always fails to notice what is right before her eyes.” His irritatingly smooth voice brings me out of my line of thoughts and I glare at him. This is Cullen’s another flaw—he is always saying shit which has no meaning at all.

 

I cross my arms in front of my chest and arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you yapping about, Cullen?” No ‘hi’ or ‘how are you,’ because this was our usual greeting.

 

Instead of saying anything to me, he turns to face his uncle.

 

Carlisle lets out a huff and then says to me, “What Edward means is he has applied to transfer from dayshift to nightshift.”

 

Without meaning to, a snort comes out of me. Carlisle clucks his tongue before continuing, “Before his request is accepted, Edward needs to show that he has the aptitude for working the full nightshift. So, instead of CSI Black, Edward will work on tonight’s shift.”

 

I feel my eyes bug out of my head at the mere idea of encountering Cullen every-damn-night. “But, Carlisle,” I start but he holds up one finger to me indicating he needs to answer the phone that decides to ring right fucking now.

 

As I hear Carlisle talk on the phone, I try very hard to not look at the smug-looking man standing a few feet away from me. I stare at my well-worn shoes to avoid meeting his eyes, though I can feel his gaze on me. It is only when Carlisle hangs up that I decide to look up at him.

 

Before I can continue to point out why allowing Cullen to transfer here is a very bad idea, Carlisle shakes his head at me, letting me know he was not in the mood for whining right now. I bite my lip, trying not to blurt out that I cannot handle working with Cullen, when Carlisle starts talking.

 

“All right. That was Captain Whitlock of SPD. There is a John Doe at the Metropolis Hospital. He was found unconscious on the bank of the Sound, about half an hour ago. He is being given every possible medical attention but his clothes and a backpack found on him needs to be processed. So I am putting you two on the job. Go and get whatever you find there,” he says in a no-nonsense manner.

 

I want to argue and say that there is no way I am going anywhere with Cullen but the arrogant jerk says in an overly-cheerful voice, “Yes, sir. Let’s go, Swan.” He motions me to follow him as if I am his goddamn slave and walks out of the room, no doubt expecting me to follow him.

 

It is only because I love my job that I walk out behind him—not follow him, mind you, I am never going to follow his smug ass.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

Having Cullen drive a car is like sitting in a racecar during NASCAR. It is an exhilarating experience but I do not tell him that. Instead, I grimace at him and say, “Are you an adrenaline junkie? What kind reckless jerk drives like that?”

 

He smirks at me. “This jerk does, apparently.”

 

I huff, not liking the way his green eyes twinkle in the semidarkness of the car. He bumps his shoulder with mine and says, “Admit it, Swan, you love the speed.”

 

I let loose the sarcastic bitch in me and grumble, “Yeah, right. You are delusional, Cullen. I like safety and dependency, not recklessness.”

 

He just shakes his head, letting me know he is not buying the crap I am spewing out of my big-ass mouth. After a few seconds, he slows down the car though, but I am sure that is not for my benefit.

 

The rest of the drive, I keep my eyes fixed on the road. I think I have scrutinized the bobble-head dog, the red and blue flickering lights, the side sticker saying ‘Chick on Wheels’ and even the ridiculous number plate saying ‘DICK-XO-101’ from our surrounding cars to minute details, but I do not dare to look at the man sitting beside me. I feel his stare on me, I hear his rhythmic breathing but I do not look at him.

 

The moment we reach the hospital, I scramble out of the car, glad to be in the open air where I am not going to smell Cullen’s cologne. I hear a sigh and turn to look at Cullen but I find him already gearing up for the night. _Did he really sigh or was it just a trick of the air?_ I cannot make up my mind and decide to just get ready to tackle the case at hand.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

Cullen is going through the John Doe’s shirt as I grab the man’s backpack and start examining it.

 

The bag looks like it has seen better days. The leather is fraying at the seams; the zipper looks like it has been replaced recently—indicative of emotional attachment to the bag. There are liquid stains on the bag, suggesting the owner must have spilled something on it recently.

 

From the state of the backpack and the clothes, our John Doe is either homeless or a struggling artist. Personally, I think it is the second, because homeless guys do not usually carry around leather wallets like the one Cullen showed me a few minutes ago. Expecting to find either music instruments, or sketchpads, I slip my hand in the bag and feel it. I close my eyes shut, hoping against hope that my hunch is dead wrong.

 

I can feel wires in between my fingers. As I move my hand slightly, I find that the wires seem to be attached to something that feels like a metallic box. Praying to God that it be a crazy music box, I grab the metal box in my hand and pull it out of the bag.

 

I see the blinking red light in the front side of the thing. I gasp, realizing what this is, and then I stop breathing.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

“Hey Swan, did you fall asleep there?” I hear Cullen’s smart-ass voice calling out from behind me.

 

If it was any other time I would have snarked back and chewed his head off for thinking I would fall asleep on the job. But not now, not tonight. Tonight, I stay radio-silent, not trusting myself to stay still if I start talking.

 

“Swan?” he calls out again. But my eyes are still trained on the device in my hands.

 

“I swear, she was born to be the bane of my existence,” he mutters before I can hear the sound of his feet approaching from behind me.

 

Then I feel his presence in front of me as he stands before me and says in an angry voice, “What the hell, Swan? Are you incapable of even uttering a simple ‘yes’? Do you…” his words stop abruptly as his eyes fall on the device in my hands.

 

“What the fuck is that?” he asks, sounding alarmed.

 

Without moving my gaze from my hands, I decide to reply in a shaky voice, “It was inside the bag. I think it might be a bomb.”

 

I hear a sound that says he just smacked his forehead with his palm followed by a string of profanities uttered in a very low voice.

 

Then there is sound of deep breaths. After that he says in a voice that is suggestive of forced-calmness, “All right, Bella. I need you to stay still. I am going to call the bomb disposal unit and we will be just fine.”

 

I want to say in my usual sarcastic bitchy voice that where the fuck was I going to run off to go parading with a bomb. But his voice and the way he called my name stops me. I manage to make a humming sound that tells him I understood him. _I think that is the first time he has ever called me Bella and not Swan_ , my stupid brain thinks.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

By the time Cullen returns after making the call, I start to feel the heaviness of the device. I feel my arms getting tired to holding the load and wish to be able to put it down, at least for a moment.

 

I snort at the workings of my weird mind. As if I would still be here if I could put the thing down for a moment!

 

“Want to share with the class what you are thinking?” he asks me, as he walks back into my line of sight.

 

I notice the change in his demeanor. Since the moment he saw the bomb he has been pretty civil with me, maybe even bordering on polite. _Is he trying to be nice to me thinking that I am going to die tonight?_ I think for an instant, before shaking it off and deciding to follow his suit.

 

“Not particularly funny,” I say, not wanting to tell him that even I thought of myself as weird.

 

“I don’t mind unfunny jokes,” he replies, clearly trying to make small talk.

 

I feel the corner of my mouth lifting slightly at his attempt. In hopes of passing the time quicker, I join in with him and say, “Is ‘unfunny’ even a word? I think it should be ‘boring’.”

 

He huffs. “Bella, I was being polite. Calling your jokes boring will make it seem like I think of _you_ as boring.”

 

I cannot resist the temptation anymore and decide to look up into his face. There is a strained smile on his face as he looks back into mine. “Right,” I say with just a hint of sarcasm in my voice, “You _don’t_ think of me as boring.”

 

His face turns serious as he stares into my eyes. “No, I really don’t,” he says with a glint of something in his eyes, and for the first time since I have known him, I notice how bright and green his eyes are—like two shiny pieces of emeralds.

 

I try to suppress my mind’s musings about Cullen’s eye color and reply to him, “You just think of me as disgusting as something that got stuck at the bottom of your shoes.”

 

His eyes widen as the words come out of my mouth and he says with a vigorous head-shake, “No, Bella, that’s not... That is not true. I don’t find you disgusting, trust me.”

 

I am about to interrogate him further when his radio crackles. Holding one finger up at me in the universal sign of ‘hold up’, he quickly moves away toward the far end of the hospital room and talks into the radio.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

“Fuck!” I hear him curse loudly into the radio. Then with great effort he seems to calm himself down and with a few harshly whispered words, he pushes the button down to disconnect the call and then starts walking back up to me.

 

“Bad news?” I ask, noticing the deep thought-line marring his forehead.

 

Absently, he reaches out with his hand and places it on my cheek. I look at him, shocked at his sudden touch. “I will not let anything happen to you. Okay, Bella?”

 

I frown at his words. “Edward, what do you mean?” Without a conscious thought, I seem to have stopped calling him by his last name as well.

 

He looks into my eyes, searching for something I don’t know about and says softly while still holding my cheek, “There is a storm raging outside right now and the bomb disposal unit’s car got waterlogged and stuck on the way.”

 

A ragged breath leaves me as his words register in my brain. “So, they’re not coming?” I ask in a hoarse voice. “I cannot hold this in my hands all night,” I say, mentioning the obvious.

 

He allows himself to chuckle a little and says, “If I succeed, you won’t have to.”

 

Because the fear of the bomb going off has a tight hold on me, I blurt out the first thing that crosses my mind, “Are you going to kill me?”

 

His eyes widen as he looks at me like I have grown two heads, and frankly, by the way my mind is working, I am not sure that I haven’t. Because I am a retard sometimes, I continue without letting him say anything, “You know, the way you said ‘I wouldn’t have to’ sounded rather ominous.”

 

He shakes his head at my crazy talk and says, “No, silly girl, what I meant is that I will try to diffuse it myself. I trained to be in the bomb disposal unit before joining the unit, you know?”

 

I stare at him, not prepared to hear Cullen share something about his life with me. “You sure you’re not going to just set it off instead?” I ask, not feeling very confident about his skill.

 

He brought his face closer to mine, letting the green of his eyes almost overpower my brown. “No, I think I can handle it without blowing both of us off,” he said quietly, “All I ask is that you trust me, Bella.”

 

Trusting Edward Cullen seem like a foreign idea to me. But on some level, I realize that I do trust him. Because in the time we have known each other, he has not once tried to hurt me purposely. Hell, he even beat up Newton the one time he had made a pass at me at Carlisle’s anniversary party. Though Newton said it was because he had stepped on Edward’s foot, but I cannot say I did not enjoy seeing him get beat after the stunt he tried to pull with me.

 

So in a shaky voice, I ask, “If I admit that I trust you, will you promise not to blow me up?”

 

He grins and offers me a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

I nod, and then motion with my eyes at my hands, silently asking him to do his worst.

 

He bends down to grab his tool box and gets tinkering.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

After twenty two minutes of breath holding on my part and soft cussing on his, Edward stands up and touches his hands over mine, holding the bomb.

 

I feel his fingers brush against my knuckles and then he whispers, “It’s okay, Bella. You can open your eyes now.”

 

That is when I realize that in tension of the bomb exploding in my hands, I have closed my eyes tightly. I quickly snap them open and immediately my gaze locks on the vibrant green of Edward’s.

 

I search his eyes, looking for any indication that he has failed but all I can see is a triumphant smile threatening to split his face in two. “Did you…?” I start to ask.

 

He nods and points to the small panel on the device that was showing the time. “Yep, I did,” he says smugly.

 

I check the display to make sure that the timer has indeed stopped and then let out a relieved sigh. “Oh! Thank God!” I say.

 

I feel him prying my fingers—that had been clutching the device tightly—off of it and taking it in his own hands. He bends to put it on the ground and stands back up, the smile still firmly in place.

 

He winks at me and says, “I think you are a little confused. You can call me Edward, but I don’t mind if you insist on God.”

 

Free of the treacherous bomb, I let my bitchy attitude fall back in place and snarkily reply, “Yeah, right… as if…” before I can finish my sentence, I feel his hand grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me to meet his lips with mine.

 

And then I am kissing him… Edward Cullen—my nemesis in the unit—and it is unlike anything I have ever experienced. There’s shock that he is kissing me, there’s horror that I am kissing him back and then there’s confusion that I am enjoying the kiss so fucking much.

 

When I feel torn between wanting to push him away and holding him closer to me, I hear it.

 

Heavy boot steps stomping toward us…

 

It’s only an instant before the owners of the boots enter the room that Edward separates our lips.

 

Before I even know what is happening, I see people, wearing uniforms and radiation suit, swarming around us and pushing Edward away from me. I see him saying something in protest and I crane my neck, trying to get a glimpse of him when I find my vision obscured by another figure in radiation suit.

 

“Ma’am, are you CSI Swan?” a man’s voice asks me through the suit.

 

I silently nod, still trying to track Edward with my eyes.

 

The man, who I finally recognize as a member of the bomb disposal unit asks me again, “CSI Swan, I need you to answer me please. Are you all right? Did you drop the device?” I realize he must have noticed the thing on the ground.

 

Absentmindedly, I shake my head and say, “Umm… no, CSI Cullen managed to diffuse it and he put it on the ground.”

 

After that, I lose sight of Edward and as I am being bombarded with questions about the what’s, how’s and why’s, when what I really want is to push everyone away and go find Cullen, just to ask him what that kiss was for.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

It is almost four in the morning when I am dropped at the headquarters by the bomb disposal guys. Rosalie rushes in and hugs me tightly. “What the fuck, Bella? You scared the crap out of us. Why couldn’t you be more careful? Thank fuck that the bomb disposal unit managed to get another car to go and save you.”

 

I pull back from the hug and say timidly, “They didn’t get there on time. Cullen saved me. He is the one who diffused the bomb.”

 

Rose arches an eyebrow and I can feel the wheels turning in her head, about to launch thousands of questions at me. And that is when I hear his voice.

 

“Swan, Carlisle wants to see you in his office,” he says quietly and by the time I turn around, I see him already walking away from me.

 

With a fleeting wave at Rose, I almost jog to catch him before he enters Carlisle’s office. I grab his forearm and try to make him turn around. Of course my attempt is futile and I manage to get what I want only because he turns around by himself.

 

He does not say anything, except throwing me a questioning glance. I purse my lips and step closer to him before hissing in a low voice, “Are you going to tell me what that was?”

 

He replies haughtily, “What? Carlisle really is asking for you.”

 

I feel my anger flaring and snap back, “The kiss. You cannot just kiss me and then walk away like that.”

 

He opens his mouth but at that moment the door behind him opens and I see Carlisle standing at the doorway. He motions us both to walk inside the office and closes the door behind him before walking up to bring us both in a bear-hug. “I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you two safe.”

 

In spite of myself, I have to mutter the moment Carlisle lets go of us, “CSI Cullen was the one who saved me, Carlisle.”

 

Carlisle offers me one of his patented looks that make me feel like he was reading all my thoughts. Then I detect the small smile playing around the corner of his lips. Before either of us can say anything, he asks, “So, are you still against Edward’s working the graveyard shift?”

 

I steal a glance at the subject of our discussion and for the first time since I have known him, Edward Cullen does not smirk at the idea of being right. Instead, I see him look intently in my way and I force myself to look away before shaking my head.

 

Carlisle pats Edward on the shoulder and says, “Well, son, I think you proved yourself tonight. Why don’t you two call it a night and I will see you tomorrow?”

 

We nod, thank Carlisle and then leave his office together. As we are walking toward the parking lot, I give in to the urge and say once again, “You did not answer my question.”

 

He looks me in the eyes and asks slowly, “You really want to know?”

 

I simply nod. Without another word, he grabs my hand and tugs me toward his shiny sports car. And I go willingly with him, finally trusting him enough to not to do something to harm me.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

After a short and silent drive, Edward stops the car in an apartment complex’s parking garage. Since the security staff salutes him, I suspect it’s his house. Once he has parked the car, he climbs out of it and walks around to hold my door open for me. When I simply stare at him, he says, “You said you trusted me, then please trust me, Bella, you are safe with me.”

 

I nod and climb out of the car to follow him to the elevator at the end of the parking garage.

 

We move upwards in silence and it’s only when he has unlocked a door at the third floor and ushered me inside the place, that he opens his mouth. “So… yeah, this is my home.”

 

I look around before turning to face him. “And I’m here why…?” I ask.

 

He runs his hand through his perpetually disarrayed hair and replies, “I did not think what I have to say is an appropriate workplace discussion and it’s already so late that it can be considered early. I did not think it would be a good idea to walk into a bar or 24-hour café at this hour.”

 

I slowly nod, letting him know that I understand his reasons and then ask, “So, am I going to get my answer?”

 

He shrugs and says, “It is quite simple, really. I kissed you because I wanted to.”

 

I wait for a moment for him to elaborate and when he doesn’t, I throw my hands up in the air and almost shout in frustration, “That’s it? That little jewel of information is the reason that I came here with you? You really are not going to say anything else?”

 

My anger seems to set him off and suddenly his voice drowns out mine. “What do you want me to say, Bella? Huh? That I wanted to kiss you because I love you? Yeah, I do, but you seem to be fucking oblivious to my very presence!”

 

I blink and let his words register on my mind and then I burst into hysterical laughter. He looks at me incredulously and with something akin to hurt. When I see the hurt in his eyes, I stop laughing, almost swallowing my tongue in the process.

 

Cautiously, I ask, “Wait, you were not joking?”

 

He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a low groan. Then says, “No, Bella. It wasn’t a joke. I really love you.”

 

“But…but…” I stutter. “You hate me,” I say with epic lameness.

 

He looks down, trying to catch my eyes and asks, “Who told you that?”

 

I wrack my brain for an answer but come up empty and so simply reply, “Because you flirt with everyone except for me. Hell, you don’t even talk to me properly.”

 

“Fucking ridiculous!” I hear him mutter and when I raise my head up to see his face, he walks right up to me and cups my face in between his hands. Then he whispers, “I am scared shitless of you, Bella, and that is the reason, I cannot find the right things to say to you.”

 

Petulantly, I counter his words and say, “But you are always mean to me.”

 

He nudges my chin with his knuckles to make me meet his eyes and with a wry smile confesses, “You know the playground rule? How little boys are always mean to the girls they like?”

 

I shake my head, not trusting myself to even think of what I think he is saying. He chuckles. “I am that little boy, I’m afraid, and because I have fallen in love with you, I tried to alienate you, in hopes of being in your thoughts constantly.”

 

“You’re crazy,” I blurt out when I can find my voice.

 

He smirks at me and nods. “For you? Fuck yeah, I am.”

 

Then he closes the distance between us and brings our lips inches apart. But before he can kiss me, I hold out a restraining hand and put it on his chest. “But I’m not your type, Edward.”

 

He frowns and asks, “What do you mean?”

 

I pshshaw and try to word my jumbled thoughts. “I mean that I have seen your ex and she was tall, with perfect figure and blond… everything that I am not.”

 

He grins, making the skin beside his eyes crinkle slightly and says, “And just like you said, she’s my _ex_. You see, Bella, I was just carrying on a dead-end relationship with Tanya. Because I knew she was not someone I was ever going to take home to meet my family and then you literally crashed into my world and my whole perspective shifted. I found the girl who I knew I wanted to introduce to my family.”

 

His words might sound cheesy, but they make me want to hug him. _Not yet_ , I tell myself and ask him once more, “But that was what? Eight months ago? Why did you wait so long to tell me about it?”

 

He pointed his index finger toward his chest and says, “Scared shitless, remember? I don’t know if I could have gathered the courage even tonight if the bomb didn’t scare the fuck out of me.”

 

He tries to move in, but I move my head back slightly and ask again, “So that kiss was an ‘I-am-relieved-that-you’re-not-dead’ kiss?”

 

He rolls his eyes at me and nods. Then he eyes me warily, “Anymore questions?”

 

I figure that I have toyed with the man’s patience enough as it is and snake my hand up his chest to let it slide into the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Then I bring our lips closer and ask in a whisper, “Last question: can we kiss now?”

 

“Oh! Thank fuck!” he murmurs before wrapping his arms around me and brushing my lips with his.

 

The sensation of his sucking my lip into his mouth and then probing and entering my mouth with his tongue and finally the feel of our tongues brushing together makes me let out a very unladylike moan.

 

I feel him grin against my lips and just to get a rise out of him, I grab a handful of his hair and tug. He groans before moving his lips to my jaw line, the column of my throat, and then I feel him whisper, as he places open mouthed kisses along my collarbones, “I love you, Bella Swan.”

 

With boldness I had no idea I possessed, I pull back and look straight into his eyes before saying, “Show me.”

 

He looks startled at my challenge and looks intently at me, as if searching my face for something. He must find what he searches for because I feel his hands slip lower to grip my ass and hoist me up, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.

 

In a hoarse voice, he asks me, “Baby, are you sure?”

All I can manage to do is nod and say while trying to keep my lips firmly attached to his,

“Mmmm… love me, Edward.”

 

Apparently that is the answer he was looking for. Because I feel him hold me tighter against his body, letting me feel all of him for the first time, and start making our way toward what I can only assume is the bedroom.

 

The moment he passes the open doorway of the room, he lets me slide down his body, allowing both of us a taste of the friction our bodies created.

 

When I am standing before him with my feet on the floor, he takes the lapels of my jacket in his hands and pushes it off of my shoulders. Then he tugs my shirt and bra over my head and drops them to the ground. Looking at me with something close to reverence, he whispers, “Fuck! You are perfect.”

 

I blush and look down. I feel his fingers curls around my wrist as he brings my hand to his lips, presses a kiss there and then allows it to lay at the hem of his shirt. Taking the hint, I quickly unbutton it and see his perfectly sculpted chest. I want to run my hands along the plane of his chest and so, I do exactly that.

 

I feel a slight shudder run through his body as I lean down and place a kiss on his nipple. He opens his tightly closed eyes and look at me and asks once more, “Are you sure you want this, Bella? I haven’t even taken you out on a date yet.”

 

I roll my eyes and reach for his jeans. “There’s plenty of time for dating later. Right now, I _need_ you, Edward.”

 

The smile that comes to his face is so fucking bright that for a moment, I find myself mesmerized at the sight. Then as if coming out of a trance, we finish getting our clothes off and Edward scoops me up into his arms and carries me to his bed.

 

For the next few hours, all I can see, hear, feel and taste is Edward and when he enters me for the very first time with a moan of “I love you, baby,” I feel it in my heart that falling for him is going to be effortless.

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

I feel the hand slowly rubbing on my back and stretch, feeling like a cat about to purr. Then I look up to see his face—smiling like a little boy on Christmas morning.

 

“Don’t you look happy?” I say, poking his sides playfully.

 

He smirks at me and replies, “Not happy, love. I am fucking ecstatic.”

 

I allow an uncharacteristic giggle pass through my lips and rise, straddling him in the process. “It’s getting dark outside,” I say, glancing out of his bedroom window.

 

He tightens his arms around me and says in with an adorable frown, “Are you telling me that you need to leave?”

 

I nod and lean down to kiss his beautiful, pink and slightly swollen lips. As our bare chests brush against each other, he almost growls. I grin as I place my arms on either sides of his pillow and say softly, “I need to go home and get dressed, but you can pick me up for work.”

 

His lips turn upwards in a sexy smile as he asks, “Yeah? You want to let people know that Swan and Cullen is a couple now?”

 

I look at him from beneath my eyelashes and nod, suddenly feeling shy. Then mustering my courage, I say, “And maybe I would like Cullen to know that he can take me out on a date this weekend?”

 

His smile broadens as he winks at me. “Cullen would like that very much, Swan.”

 

 

 

~*~*~*Trust Me, Love Me*~*~*~

 

 

 

** One month later **

 

I sigh as I think back to the last one month of my life and I cannot, for the life of me, stop the broad grin taking over my face.

 

If anyone told me a month ago that I would be dating Edward Cullen and that he would turn out to be the most amazing boyfriend ever, I would have punched them in the face and then get them institutionalized. But that would have been wrong. Because, all those things were true. Edward was the most sexy, thoughtful, crazy, and amazing man in my life.

 

My human pillow probably senses that I am awake and I feel the rumble in his chest as he speaks. “Happy one month anniversary, love. I love you, Bella.”

 

I smile softly at the words he has spoken to me every single day of the past month, even though I failed to return them. But this time, I raise my head from his chest and say right back, “I love you, too, Edward.”

 

His answering smile is so bright that it’s blindingly beautiful. He crushes me to his chest and then proceeds to show me how much he loves me, not that I mind in the slightest.

 

Yeah, it was official. I, Bella Swan, have fallen in love with the man I used to hate with a passion, Edward Cullen—all in the span of one month. And you know what? I could not be happier that I did.

 

 

~*~*~*The End*~*~*~


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